


An Experiment in Control

by Avenn



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blindfolds, Consensual, Established Relationship, F/F, I just wanted to give something back, No seriously this piece is utter garbage, Shit work, Smut, because there's not enough dom tracer yet, dom!Tracer, maybe if i write enough garbage someone will write some good dom!tracer stuff, one of the reasons i miss my ex, or maybe i'll just keep posting shit fics like this, someone's gotta do it, sub!widowmaker, this is yalls fault, this used to be so much easier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 18:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11110011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avenn/pseuds/Avenn
Summary: Tracer has to go to work. Widowmaker? She has to stay home and wait for Tracer to get home. Oh and stay naked and blindfolded. If she does, a very good reward awaits her. A short smutty scene in an undefined universe where Tracer and Widow are already together. Really just me trying to remember how this writing thing is supposed to work.





	An Experiment in Control

**Author's Note:**

> I want to dedicate this fic to a few people within the Widowtracer (can we rename it Tracemaker? Widowtracer is such a mouthful) fandom. For inspiring me to pick back up the metaphorical pen and put some of these stories in my head out into the world. 
> 
> Bzarcher, Pizzama8, kayden, Argonautical, and so many others--you are the reason I am (attempting to) write again. The world's you create and your mastery of this craft has inspired me to try to regain something I thought long since lost. Thank you. For everything that you have contributed. I cannot tell you how much I look forward to travelling through your worlds and how much joy it brings me. For additional notes, please see the end of the work.

An Experiment in Control

Darkness encroached on Widowmaker’s senses. It was a thick blanket around her, pressing her in, stifling her. She fought to remain in control, of her anger and ire. To remain cool and cold within the stifling heat. But it was hard for her now. She slowly became aware of her other senses, sheets abrasive in her hyperawareness of her surroundings, sleep falling from her like smooth silk. The bed shifted next to her and a hand pressed against her cheek, shifting the blindfold robbing her of sight. A hand like a brand, fiery hot against her cool skin--and yet she leaned into it, nuzzling as her heartbeat fluttered and calmed.

“That’s it love,” her lover murmured, a hint of pride coloring her voice. “I didn’t mean to startle ya, but Overwatch has a meeting for me. I’ve gotta kip out for a bit.” 

Widowmaker frowned infinitesimally. Lena was leaving? But. She couldn’t. Before she could voice her protest, she felt Lena’s lips press against her own, a butterfly landing on her and she sighed softly, reaching out to feel for silken strands of hair, tugging slightly with a hint of petulance as Lena pulled away, lips forming into a soft smirk against her own. 

“You’re going to be good for me today though, aren’t ya pet?” 

“Of course I will,” Widowmaker huffed. 

“That’s my girl,” Lena chuckled softly, brushing fingers through her hair and Widowmaker preened under the attention. “You know what to do today--keep the blindfold on. Relax love. You may leave the bed if you need but...keep the blindfold on.” Lena’s fingers gripped a thick handful of her hair, tugging just enough to pull Widowmaker’s head back, kissing the long column of her throat. “And if you do--you will be rewarded so well tonight pet.” 

When she put it that way--Widowmaker had very little choice.

\---

The day passed slowly for her, as she knew it would. For most of the day, Widowmaker lounged on the bed, tracking the passage of time with the rays of warmth that passed across her bare skin. It was the worst sort of agony, the light caressing her skin, lifting her off into a dreamy haze; imagining it was her Lena’s fingers tracing up her stomach, nails brushing over taut nipples and making her shift and whine in need. But she knew better than to touch herself. Knew that Lena was watching her. 

Well, if she is going to watch me, let her have something to watch, Widowmaker thought, biting her lip enticingly. She slowly stretched out across the bed, limbs curving and pressing into the sheets, legs parting wide enough to make her gasp. Oh what she would do for Lena to be back now...There was a heat building inside her that only Lena knew how to take care of. After a few moments of this purposeful shifting, she stilled once more with a silent sigh. It would do no good to wind herself up. She had a feeling it would be many more hours before she would get her reward.  
The darkness did not bother Widowmaker. If anything, it was a comfort to her. In the dark, nothing could find her. Nothing could judge her. Her sins could stay buried, if only for a little bit more. Earlier on in there...relationship, Tracer had discovered this. How, Widowmaker could not remember. But occasionally, she would come to Tracer with what she needed. And Tracer would always take care of her. 

Today however, was not one of those days. Widowmaker smirked to herself as she carefully got up, bare feet feeling the cool wood beneath her, hearing it creak underfoot as she carefully made her way to the kitchen and loo to refresh herself. Judging from the way the room darkened and cooled, it was getting dark outside. Tracer would be home soon. 

The thought sent an electric shock down her body, nipples hardening in the cool air and she pressed her thighs together. She had been patient, she had been good, hadn’t she? She would die if Tracer denied her even a moment more. When she got home--she would not take any further teasing. 

\---

She must have dozed off at some point. That is the only thing she could think of when she became aware of the stifling darkness, the sheets trapping and entangling her, the grogginess mingling with a low burning desire in the pit of her soul, leaving her to wake wondering what it was exactly that woke her. 

“Ah, there she is,” a voice murmured from next to her, puffs of air tickling her ear and Widowmaker squirmed, rocking her ass back against Tracer as she felt an arm tighten around her middle. 

“Cherie,” she said softly, voice rough with sleep--and yet a shameful strain of need unable to be hidden. 

“I know love, I’m gonna take good care of ya,” Tracer replied, pressing a kiss to her neck and Widowmaker sighed in relief. 

“I know you will,” she said simply and relaxed back against the smaller woman, rubbing slowly against her, heart thumping with unknown emotion at the soft shuddering breath that Tracer released. 

She felt Tracer shift on the bed, greedy hands travelling up and down her body in slow sure strokes, warming her from the inside out and having her instinctively rolling to open herself to her lover. 

“You’re so ready for me, aren’t you love?” Tracer murmured softly, hands stroking slow waves down her body, stopping closer and closer to where she wanted to be with each roll of the tides. Widowmaker let out a soft whine, hips arching and then stilling immediately at the soft tsk. “I asked you a question love, use your big girl words now.” 

“Touch me, cherie,” Widowmaker said clearly, trying to keep the need from her voice.

“Want me to touch your slick little pussy?” Tracer stated softly, a hint of edge in her voice that Widowmaker first heard on the rooftops of London, gunpowder and plasma thick in the air like lightning between them. As it had then, it forced an irregular beat in her cold heart--stole a breath from her at the pure passion of this woman. 

Widowmaker lost herself in the sensations then, the gasp as she groped her pussy firmly, rubbing against her with a groan. “Fuck you’re so wet love, such a good pet for me aren’t you?” Widowmaker whined and nodded, gripping the sheets as Tracer slowly started to rub tight hard circles over her clit, finger flicking out to tease against her entrance, pressing in just enough to stretch, to hint at fullness. 

Tracer surged up, tucking around her, holding her tight and close as she teased her over the edge, sharp white heat flashing throughout her entire body with so little warning that she let out a cry, shuddering the grasp of her lover. 

“Already so sensitive, God I fucking love how sensitive you are for me love, how greedy you are for my touch.” Tracer kissed and nipped at the skin of her neck and collarbone, fingers setting a ruthless pace on her clit, pain and pleasure mixing like lightening strikes along her nerves. Widowmaker could do little more than whimper, fingers gripping tightly onto whatever she could reach. It was too much, it had to be too much.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” Tracer continued, tugging the blindfold up abruptly, eyes right in front of Widowmaker’s, spots dancing before her eyes as they adjusted. “I’m gonna fuck you so fucking hard love, I’m gonna make you cum over and over again--rewarding you for being such a good fucking pet today; you kept your blindfold on the whole day didn’t you pet? Listened to me when I told you what to do. God you’re such a good girl, love you so much my sweet little pet--” 

“Yes--” Widowmaker said breathlessly, shuddering visibly as she felt Tracer’s fingers finally--slowly--too quickly--sink insider her. Inch. By inch. “Fuck,” she ground out, head pushing back against the pillows. “I am--I am yours cherie--fuck all yours--please Tracer--Lena--” 

“Hush now Amelie--I’ll take care of you now,” Lena said as she sunk fully into her, fingers curling--rubbing her inside and Widowmaker watched as the world went soft around the edges--as everything narrowed down to the points where she and Lena met, and all was right. 

\---

Light greeted her eyes, soft and pale. Hints of yellow and long shadows dancing across the walls. The blinds were open wide, letting in the crisp wet air of a rainy London night, the staccato of the rain keeping time to the low rumble of thunder and traffic below. And the moon shone brightly, across the ratty Union Jack comforter that Lena insisted was “charming”. And across Lena, propped up on one elbow, looking down on her with such love in her eyes that Widowmaker felt her breath leave her all at once. 

“There she is,” Lena said softly, brushing the bangs back off her face and Amelie smiled softly, leaning into the warm flame of her love. “Feel better now pet?” 

“Much,” Amelie murmured, pressing a kiss into the palm of Lena’s hand. “I don’t think I will want to do that again anytime soon, but it was...it was beyond describing.” 

“That’s just because you’re impatient, love,” Lena said with a grin, settling down in the bed next to her, wrapping them in blankets--and wrapping herself around Amelie. 

“It must be you rubbing off on me,” Amelie replied, a hint of prim haughtiness dancing with humor in her words. 

“Well, whatever makes you happy I will do pet.” Lena leaned over, kissing her gently. “I’ll do everything I can to protect my sweet moon.” 

“And I you, my sun.” Widowmaker murmured, sleep already starting to pull her back under. And this time, the darkness was welcomed--not with impatience or drive or lust. No, it was welcomed with Lena by her side, safe and warm.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I think I almost reigned it in there at the end eh?
> 
> If you have made it this far , I must commend you.Three hours of staring at my keyboard, listening to the same three songs on repeat and typing whatever shit comes to mind and we get this. This story is utter dog shit and we all know it.But it's a start. I was determined to not sleep until I posted something--anything. No matter how shit it was because at least I was posting it. 
> 
> Two years ago, my muse was stolen from me. Before this fic, I have been blessed with the pleasure of never having to write alone. My girlfriend at the time,friend of eleven years and lover of four, she was my partner and muse. We wrote tens of thousands of words, hundreds of stories.With her, life was my inspiration, the beauty of love brought me to poetry.
> 
> But all things must come to an end, and when she left, she took my muse with me. I didn’t think I would ever write again. To be honest, I didn’t want to. Writing was our thing. And I thought I had moved on past it. I enjoyed reading (and recently began to dabble in audiobooks), but I thought the world of writing was long in my past. 
> 
> And yet, because of you fucking amazing writers, I’ve been getting the itch. On my way to work, songs play out scenes in my head. Reading the other works in this community makes me think of my own ideas. But how the fuck do you write after this long out of the game? Fuck if I know. So, I decided to start with my worst style; smut. The only experience I have, is what I shared with my ex. Which is...ironic, I’m sure. But here’s the thing. I want to write. I used to be pretty damn good at it too. But now...I don’t know how to get back into it. So I’m diving into the deep end. And I’ll either sink under piles of shit and mountains of negative comments or maybe someday, one of these garbage stories I post will turn into something that others enjoy and that I can be proud of. Who knows. But thanks for making it this far with me and we’ll see if maybe I ever do this again. 
> 
>  
> 
> P.S Christ help me if I ever write an author’s note that competes in length with the actual story. 
> 
> P.P.S What I really want to write is a OC-centric fic that takes the place of Emily in a threesome fic. But I don’t know about y’all, but I fucking hate when people bring OC into fanfic. I don’t wanna be that guy, so I’m conflicted. What do I do?
> 
> P.P.S I'm so sorry for the formatting, I don't even understand this website and it's almost 3 am and I have to be up in 5 hours and this is already a garbage fic so this is the best y'all get.


End file.
